


Finding Oneself Within

by TMar



Series: A Female Thing [1]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Genderswap, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 06:40:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16362839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TMar/pseuds/TMar
Summary: John gets turned into a woman. I know it sounds bad, but I'm informed that it really isn't. Please, please give it a try!





	Finding Oneself Within

**Author's Note:**

> This story uses a sci-fi device to change the gender of one of the characters. It is not about being trans! If you think you may be offended by the content, rather err on the side of caution and don't read it.   
> This story is also archived on Wraithbait.

As soon as he woke up, John Sheppard knew that something was very wrong. For  
one thing, he couldn't move. For another, he was no longer on M8A-144. He  
tried to remember what had happened, but all he remembered was a white light  
and then a lot of pain. It had felt somewhat like going through an Asgard  
transporter, only painful.

As he slowly opened his eyes, John realised he was back in Atlantis. That at  
least was reassuring. He tried to move again, but couldn't. "Colonel, don't  
try to move," came Carson's voice. "We have you strapped down."

"Wh... why?" John asked, but it came out as a whisper as his voice didn't  
seem to be working.

"I'll let Rodney explain," Carson said, and John heard his voice get softer  
even as he said it, moving away.

He heard voices after that, including Ronon's, which reassured him even more,  
and then Rodney was next to the bed. "Okay, this wasn't my fault," he said.

"Rodney," came Elizabeth's voice.

"What? Well, it wasn't!"

"Could we focus on Colonel Sheppard please." Her voice was louder and had a  
steely edge to it.

"Colonel, there wasn't a Zed P.M. at the coordinates," Rodney said. "But it  
was definitely an Ancient outpost. From what Elizabeth's been able to  
translate so far, the Ancients at the outpost were trying to do what we did  
with the retrovirus, only using beaming technology."

"I... I'm a Wraith?" Sheppard croaked.

"Ah... no, not exactly. Stripping away that much DNA, even using beaming  
technology, is difficult. It looks like the Ancients decided to try  
something comparatively easier first."

"What?" Sheppard managed to yell, but his voice came out much higher than  
he'd expected. "Just tell me," he said, softer.

"They experimented with removing the Y chromosome."

The truth hit John like a ton of bricks. "I'm a woman?!"

"From what we understand so far," Carson answered, "the transporter  
eliminates the Y chromosome, duplicates the X or at least does something  
like it, and reorders the person. Basically..."

"You're a woman, yes," Rodney finished.

"You're still John Sheppard, you're just... you're what you'd be if you'd  
been born female. Well, more or less," Carson said.

John wanted to see, and he began to fight the restraints. "Get this off me!"  
he yelled.

"Wait, wait, don't hurt yourself," Carson said. "We'll take them off, just  
wait."

John stopped thrashing around so that Carson and Rodney could undo the  
restraints. He managed to sit up, but freaked when he saw his legs as he  
moved them to the side of the bed.

"Colonel, stand up slowly. Your centre of gravity is different now and we  
don't want you having a spill onto the infirmary floor," Carson said,  
standing ready to help.

"He means don't fall and break your head open," Rodney added helpfully.

Normally, Sheppard would have answered with his trademark sarcasm, but he  
just didn't have the energy for it. He got his feet onto the floor and  
pushed off of the bed. "Whoa." He fell back against it. "Feels weird."

"Oh, here!" Rodney said, grabbing his arm.

John yanked his arm out of Rodney's grip. "Let me take your arm," he said,  
making sure to dig his fingers in real good as he used Rodney for leverage  
as he finally stood up.

"Ow," Rodney said, but it was quiet and without malice.

A few steps and John felt steady enough to let go of Rodney. He walked to  
the end of the infirmary and back. "Wow, that's... different."

"How do you feel?" Carson asked.

"Ah... all right, I guess." John flexed his arms, looking closely at his  
hands, which of course no longer looked like they belonged to him. He walked  
back to the bed, standing next to Rodney... who was now *taller* than him.  
"Okay, that's just wrong," he said, looking at Rodney.

"Not my fault, Colonel."

"What do we do now?" John asked. "Go back and hope we can get this  
reversed?"

"Uh... yeah... there's a problem," Rodney said.

John cocked his head in that Air Force 'I'm so macho' way. It still seemed  
to work, because Rodney gulped and replied.

"We tried to send you back through. We thought maybe it could also add a Y  
chromosome. But it wouldn't even turn on."

"Maybe it's because I have the gene." He panicked suddenly, looking at  
Carson. "Do I still have the gene?"

"Yes, lad, you still have the gene."

John sagged, not really having realised until now how much having what he'd  
called "some mutant gene" really meant to him. "So, we go back and see if I  
can activate it."

"It won't work," said Rodney.

"He's right," Elizabeth put in. "I translated some of the writings on the  
console, and the machine is only designed to remove the Y chromosome, not  
add one."

"We think it was to prevent the Wraith from re-Wraithifying themselves, once  
they got that part of the technology working," Rodney said.

"And if it worked, it would have been great," Carson added. "The Wraith  
would have been human, but with their memories intact. They would have had  
no way to reverse the process. You can see why the Ancients wanted to  
prevent that."

John sat back on the bed, noticing that he was wearing one of those...  
skimpy... hospital gowns. But he wouldn't have cared about modesty before,  
so he refused to now. "Is there no way to reverse it?"

Rodney shook his head. "This isn't Star Trek," he said. "We can't just  
'reverse the polarity'. It only works one way. Anyway, I've already tried to  
do that. Tried opening the console, rewiring it, you name it. It simply  
wasn't designed to work in reverse. I'd guess the Ancients either hadn't got  
to that part of the technology yet, or they did have a way of reversing it,  
but put it on another planet as a security measure."

"And we have no way of knowing, I suppose."

Rodney shook his head. "Nope. Everything Elizabeth has translated so far  
only talks about *that* piece of technology. It doesn't mention anything  
about reversing it."

John sighed. "And of course if you tamper with it too much, you risk  
breaking it altogether."

"Exactly." Rodney paused. "This doesn't mean we'll stop trying, but it does  
mean you'll..."

"Be stuck this way until we can figure it out."

"Yeah."

***

John threw this favourite T-shirt against the wall. "Dammit!"

Just then, his door opened. John grabbed his jacket from the bed and held it  
against himself. He wasn't used to feeling vulnerable with his shirt off.  
He'd been like this for two days, and though Carson said he was in perfect  
health, he sure didn't feel like it.

Rodney walked in just as John yelled, "Do you mind?!"

"Huh?" asked Rodney, hardly noticing the problem. "I thought you'd be  
ready." They were going to the mainland for some Athosian celebration that  
Teyla had tried to explain until their eyes had glazed over.

"I wanted to wear my favourite T-shirt. It doesn't fit me!" He'd been  
wearing scrubs for the last two days, but he couldn't go to the mainland in  
them.

"You need to requisition new uniforms," said Rodney. "And get the Daedalus  
to bring you back some... other clothes."

"You mean women's clothes," John said sarcastically.

"Well, they don't have to be," Rodney said reasonably. "They can just be  
men's clothes in a smaller size. Lots of women wear men's clothes. They  
claim they're more comfortable."

"Wouldn't know," said John.

"Can't you borrow something from Elizabeth or Cadman or someone?"

"I guess." John did that 'you're so clever, Rodney, help me' look that  
usually got Rodney to do his bidding.

Rodney just rolled his eyes. "You want me to hit women up for clothes for  
you?"

"Just pants and a T-shirt for now would be good," John replied, smiling  
because his tactic still worked.

"I'll be back," Rodney said, exiting.

John sagged onto the bed. These had been the longest two days of his life.  
Once people had become aware of what had happened, they generally treated  
him as they always had. He knew he was still acting like himself, so that  
probably helped.

His first encounter with needing to go to the bathroom had NOT been fun,  
though. Having to get half undressed and sit down just to pee was a right  
pain. However, his female body worked fine, and he'd been able to relieve  
himself with only a minimal freak-out. He'd wiped up fine, but hadn't dared  
to look 'down there', sure that he wouldn't be able to handle that just yet.

Breasts were another thing. His (his!) were the type that he'd described to  
other men in the barracks as "a nice handful", which meant he didn't even  
need a... a... okay, a bra. He was actually grateful for that; he knew that  
he, Rodney and every other red-blooded male tended to stare if a woman was  
particularly... well-endowed. He didn't want people talking to his chest. He  
might have some female... chromosomes... right now, but he was still a man.

At that thought, the door opened again and Rodney walked in, carrying a  
substantial pile of clothes. It looked like he had three entire outfits  
there.

"Yeah," said Rodney before John could say anything, "it turns out that  
Carson collected some stuff for you, taken from the quarters... uh." He  
stopped abruptly, and John suddenly realised where the clothes had come  
from: from people who had died before they'd reestablished contact with  
Earth.

"It's okay, Rodney, I'm grateful." He got up, threw the jacket aside and  
grabbed the first shirt in the pile, pulling it over his head.

"Urk."

John got the T-shirt on, then looked at Rodney, who was facing the other way.  
"What?"

"Nothing," said his scientist, blushing fiercely.

"Seriously, McKay, WHAT?"

"You just... you had no shirt on."

"You've seen me without a shirt on before," John said. He wasn't giving an  
inch on this point, because he WASN'T a woman, and he wasn't going to act  
like one. He realised that he had decided this more firmly when he'd  
'forgotten' that he was different now, and had just bared all to his friend.

Rodney, unexpectedly, didn't argue. "Good point," he said, and this time he  
examined John in the shirt. It fit him well. "I think this was DuMais' shirt.  
She was about your size... er, you're about... you know what I mean. You  
look fine."

"Pants?" asked John.

The jeans Rodney passed him didn't go over his hips. John was wearing a pair  
of scrub underwear from the Infirmary's stocks. They were made of a papery  
material, but at least he wasn't naked. He reminded himself that he would  
have been uncomfortable naked even in his original body. It was one thing to  
shower with a group of men; it was another to undress in front of your best  
friend, even if you didn't have... female things going on.

Rodney next passed him some sweatpants. These fit him okay, so John figured  
they'd do for the trip to the mainland.

***

Flying the Puddle Jumper was as easy as it had always been, and John felt a  
weight lift from his shoulders. Things were going to be fine. He landed the  
Jumper in the designated place and he, Rodney and some other personnel  
spilled out to join the celebrations.

They'd been eating some Athosian dishes and drinking Athosian ale for about  
an hour when the dancing started. A shy young woman came up and tried to get  
Rodney to ask her to dance, but he stayed firmly in his seat on the tree  
branch next to John. When the girl finally gave up, John had to ask why  
Rodney hadn't wanted to dance.

"I don't dance," Rodney said.

"Oh, come on, Rodney. Who knows, you could have got lucky."

"'Lucky'? Colonel, she was nineteen at most! I'm twice her age!"

"She's legal and she liked you."

"She doesn't know me."

"Exactly. You could have gotten some before your charming personality drove  
her away." John said it in what he hoped was a dry tone of voice.

Rodney started to look angry, then realised John was teasing him. "Oh, funny,  
Colonel."

"I thought so."

Just then, one of the Athosian males strolled over and asked John - John! -  
to dance.

Rodney gaped, but John felt annoyed. "Do you know who I am?" he asked  
angrily.

The man began backing away. "I'm sorry, Colonel Sheppard, I was unaware that  
men do not dance together in your culture."

That was clearly the right thing to say, because John said, "Wait." He got  
up. "I'm sorry, I thought... well, you know. Actually, in my culture men do  
sometimes dance."

The man, whose name John didn't know, said, "I am honoured." They walked  
into the throng of dancers.

Athosian dancing was a lot like folk or barn dancing on Earth. Lots of  
stepping and swaying and hand holding. John was amazed at how enjoyable it  
was. The last time he'd danced with a man he'd been on liberty from McMurdo  
and had gone to Australia for a week.

A week wasn't enough time to woo a woman, and he felt he was above getting a  
hooker. So he'd gone with his fallback position and gone to a gay club,  
where you could easily get a blowjob or handjob without much fuss. It had  
been fun, but he'd considered it only something do to in an emergency; he  
stuck to women the rest of the time. He wasn't gay, he'd told himself, he  
was just scratching an itch.

The music changed and became somehow heavier and more intimate. John and the  
Athosian stepped closer and continued dancing. And then closer, and John  
noticed they were dancing closer to the edge of the trees. He also noticed  
that he felt... odd. Turned on, he guessed. It was a weirder and more  
'whole' feeling than being turned on in his normal body. Then again, it was  
possible he was just feeling the effects of the exertion. He had no real way  
to know for sure.

Decision time. Stop, or continue? If they went into the trees nobody would  
see, but... If this had been a gay bar, if he'd been fully himself, he  
wouldn't have hesitated. He would have gone for it, blown the guy and let  
him do the same. But... it wasn't. This wasn't a gay bar, he wasn't 100%  
himself, and he knew he wasn't ready to do anything with this female body  
just yet.

But he knew how he'd feel if a woman - or man - seemed into it and then  
changed their mind; he'd be pissed. So... blowjob. He'd done it before in  
his original body, so it wasn't an exclusively 'female' thing to do. And it  
could be enjoyable. He wouldn't get off, but at least his dance partner  
would get something out of it.

Decision made, he led the way into the trees, going quite a way in before  
stopping and slamming his partner into a tree without as much force as he  
was used to. "You'll enjoy this," he said, kneeling on the ground and  
scrabbling at the fastenings on the Athosian version of pants.

He almost had it when Rodney's voice cut into his concentration. "Just what  
the hell do you think you're doing, Colonel?"

His Athosian dance partner made an indistinct noise and rushed away as John  
got up, brushing leaves and sand from his sweatpants. John wasn't in the  
mood for delicacy. "It's called a blowjob, Rodney, maybe you've heard of  
it."

"You can't do that," Rodney said, sounding both shocked and angry.

"Why not?"

"Because you're a Colonel in the United States Air Force, that's why!"

"Oh, please." John pushed past Rodney and headed back to the main area, but  
of course Rodney followed him.

"Colonel! ... Sheppard!"

John turned around. "What!"

"It's not easy... especially if you've never done it before. You can't just  
kneel down and go for it." He paused. "I know being like this is weird, but  
you'll get used to it if you have patience. Don't try to do everything at  
once."

"Gee, Rodney, didn't know you had a degree in psychology. Pop psychology,"  
he added nastily. When Rodney looked crestfallen he said, "I've done it  
before. Blowjobs. They're quick and easy and every man in the universe wants  
one."

Rodney gulped. "Really?"

"You never have?"

"Huh? Of course I have, I mean... you've done that before?"

"Rodney, I'm in the military. I can't fraternize with women I work with, and  
other women are too much trouble. Men are just easier if you're looking to  
get laid. But I'm not gay if that's what you're thinking."

"I... no. You're Kirk," Rodney spluttered.

John snorted. "Ready to head back?" He noted Rodney's relief at the question.

 

They collected a few others who were ready and went back to Atlantis without  
further comment.

***

Time went on. John eventually plucked up the courage to take a look at what  
had happened to him. Usually he would have been turned on by what he saw,  
but now it just seemed... weird. Odd, and disconnected.

Plucking up all his courage, he touched himself... there. It felt... good.  
Okay, but nothing like jerking off used to. He figured he probably just had  
to get used to having these... parts. Imagine Rodney being right about him  
just needing to get used to it. He didn't *want* to get used to it, but so  
far both Elizabeth and Zelenka's searches of the Ancients' database and the  
offworld console had turned up nothing.

What he did hate was not being able to flirt with women anymore. That hurt.  
Some women flirted back because he was, after all, Lieutenant Colonel John  
Sheppard, military commander of Atlantis, but after a couple of them flirted  
and then seemed to catch themselves and blush, he realised what the problem  
was. They were afraid of being thought of as lesbians for flirting with him.  
As Rodney would say, it SO wasn't fair.

The Daedalus arrived, bringing him uniforms that fit and some clothes in the  
sizes Rodney had specified.

Unfortunately, the Daedalus also brought new personnel who had no idea who  
he was. His 'condition' was known only to the command personnel at the SGC;  
for security as well as privacy reasons others would only find out when they  
arrived at Atlantis.

John was due to brief the new people the day after the Daedalus arrived. In  
the meantime, they were assigned quarters and told where to find the mess  
hall.

John was sitting in the mess hall with Ronon when the new people came in.  
Ronon was expounding on his theories as to what more could be done to kill  
the Wraith more efficiently. John just grunted, having heard it all before.  
However, sometimes Ronon needed to blow off some steam about the Wraith, and  
John understood that. He knew Ronon would never completely get over what had  
happened to him. He literally would never rest until every single Wraith was  
wiped from existence.

Ronon eventually finished both eating and telling John about his ideas, and  
left the table.

John was startled when a marine sat down in the seat Ronon had just vacated,  
smiling at him. "Can I help you?" he asked.

"Just thought you'd like some company," the marine said, smiling at him in a  
way John instantly recognized. It was the 'I'm so charming you'll want to  
sleep with me' smile.

The marine thought he was a woman! It was so odd and disconcerting and  
downright *scary* that for a moment John was completely nonplussed. Finally  
he just said, in his strictest military voice, "What?"

"Come on," said the marine, "it must be slim pickings out here in the middle  
of nowhere."

John would normally have cut the guy down to size so fast his head would  
have spun. But they were in the mess hall with a dozen new personnel and a  
scene wouldn't make the best first impression. He just shoved his tray away  
and walked out, passing Rodney.

"Colonel?"

"Don't speak to me," said John.

But Rodney had seen him get up, and realised what the new guy had done. He  
walked up to the table even as John exited the mess hall. "Do you have any  
idea who that was?"

The guy looked him up and down, obviously deciding whether or not to be  
courteous. "No, but I'd sure like to," he leered.

Rodney sneered at him. "That was your commanding officer."

"My commanding officer is Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard."

"And that was him." Rodney waited for the guy to catch up.

"What?"

"We can turn Wraith into humans. The Ancients could do other things.  
Unfortunately, they don't label their machines very well and John has the  
gene that can turn Ancient technology on." He saw dawning comprehension.  
"You just hit on your commanding officer." Rodney grinned in a way that  
usually made people want to smack him. "Atlantis isn't for you. I'd go to  
Colonel Caldwell right now and request a transfer back to Earth. Before  
Colonel Sheppard finds a way to assign you to a team likely to encounter the  
Wraith."

"I..."

"Go."

Even though the guy had no idea who Rodney was, he recognized a fait  
accompli when he stumbled into one. He obediently got up and left.

Rodney knew he had to speak to John, but his first priority was food. Once  
he'd had something to eat he'd go see what damage that idiot had caused.

***

Rodney found John in his room, pulling out all his clothes and throwing them  
into a pile.

"Colonel..."

John snapped around. "John. J--O--H--N. John. My name is John. Not 'Major'  
or 'Colonel'."

"I never called you anything but Major or Colonel or your last name," Rodney  
said, defensively. He paused. "You never told me to."

John sighed. "I didn't think it was necessary to tell you. You call  
Elizabeth by her name."

"I knew her longer, and she did tell me to." John sat down on the bed as  
Rodney asked, "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like? I'm getting rid of my clothes. I'm not gonna need  
them again, am I? Because I'm a WOMAN! There! I said it!" He got up and  
began pacing.

"You're not a woman," Rodney said.

"Look at this!" John said, pulling off his regulation T-shirt. It was a  
woman's shirt. He had nothing underneath. "Look at me and tell me I'm not!"

Rodney, through a great feat of willpower, kept his eyes on John's face. "It  
doesn't matter. You still think the same, you still think of yourself as a  
man. Don't lose that. Because when we find a way to reverse this, we don't  
want it to be a shock to your system."

"I had a period."

Rodney's thoughts were completely derailed. "WHAT?"

"You heard me. You know what that means. That Ancient device made me a woman  
in every way except mentally. And we both know there's no going back."

"You can't say that," Rodney said. "The galaxy is a big place. The Ancients  
were experimenting with dozens of strange projects. There might be another  
of these stations on another planet, one that is made to reverse the damage.  
You can't give up hope."

John sat down, all the energy seeming to leave him. "I'm scared, Rodney. I'm  
not sure I can do this." He snorted a half-laugh. "And it's you I'm  
telling."

"Well, it could be worse; it could be Ronon."

John laughed again. "Yeah."

Rodney came and sat next to him. "Listen to me. We need you. Atlantis needs  
you. You're still Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard. Ask yourself: if I were  
in my own body, what would I do? And just do it."

"I thought you had no social skills," John said.

"Well, one of us has to keep a level head or the team would fall apart. Can  
you imagine Ronon in a first-contact situation?" He mimed aiming a gun. "'We  
come in peace, give us stuff.'"

John grinned.

"Or Teyla. 'We're friends, please don't shoot us!'"

"I've been sparring with Teyla. Just in case I'm like this for a while. I  
need to have my fighting skills back."

"And?"

"She's harder on me now than when I was... when I had my own body."

"I'll bet." Rodney got up and turned to leave.

"Rodney."

"What?"

"Thanks."

Rodney just smiled his crooked smile and left.

***

The new people stood at the foot of the main stairs in the control room,  
including one who looked as though he'd rather have a sea monster come up  
and swallow him whole. John, not looking his way, stood a little further up  
the stairs. "Good morning. I'm Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard. Welcome to  
Atlantis." He got some satisfaction out of seeing a few shocked faces.

"We don't have too many rules around here. One: don't touch things you  
shouldn't. You'll notice I found that out the hard way."

There were a few laughs at that. "Follow orders, but question and offer  
opinions. Trust those who've been here longer than you because they know  
more about surviving in this galaxy than you do. Oh, and don't piss off the  
scientists." He paused for effect. "Dismissed." John turned and went up the  
stairs as all the new people left for their assigned duty points.

John found Elizabeth in her office. "Hey."

"Hey," she said, smiling. "I see the marine who offended you yesterday is  
still here."

John grinned his old 'I'm so charming you won't notice I'm really evil' grin.  
"Hey, let him sweat."

"Rodney says you want back on field assignments."

"Yeah. Our team works better out there than in here. You know that,  
Elizabeth."

"I do. Very well, tomorrow you're back on field."

John turned to leave. "Thanks."

***

Field assignments turned out pretty much the same whether you were male or  
female, John discovered. Most races they encountered didn't bat an eye at  
seeing someone who appeared to be a woman in charge.

Hand to hand combat was different, though. Before, John had used a  
combination of brute strength and Air Force training to fight opponents. Now,  
while he was still comparatively strong, brute strength didn't cut it. Nor  
did Air Force training, because he'd done that in a different body. Teyla's  
stick-fighting and hand to hand techniques worked really well, however.

After they fought their way out of a holding cell on M8F-237 - McKay hiding  
behind Ronon most of the way - John saw pride in the eyes of his team, and  
suddenly it really didn't matter, to him or them, what his body was like. He  
truly was Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, and that was enough.

But he did get... frustrated. In his original body, he'd jerked off every  
couple of days. And his thoughts hadn't stopped, which meant he still had  
sexual urges. But now they had no outlet in the way he was used to, and so  
it seemed... odd. Or wrong. Or... he didn't know what. He'd been able to  
insert tampons without a problem, but that had been clinical. To do anything  
more would mean giving up hope, learning to live in this body. He'd adapted  
to it, but that small hope stopped him from... relieving his frustration.

After he yelled at Rodney over a little thing, people started to notice. And  
yet it was Ronon, of all people, who guessed the cause. He came strolling  
into John's quarters the afternoon after John had flown off the handle and  
said, "You need to jerk off."

John, who'd been trying again to read War and Peace, sat up and gaped.  
"What?"

"You heard me."

"How would you know anything about what I need to do? Especially in this?"  
John waved a hand, indicating his body.

"McKay's moping because you yelled; Weir looks confused and Teyla looks  
embarrassed for you. Just do it so we can get back on track."

"I... can't. That would be saying that I give up hope of getting back to  
what I was."

"Never took you for a coward, Sheppard," Ronon said.

"I'm - "

"You need it. Don't tell me it affects whether or not you get back to being  
a man."

"It's weird."

Ronon snorted ungraciously. "Then I'd say find someone to fuck you, but I  
know you won't do that." At John's shocked look he turned to go. "Make a  
choice before you get us killed out there." And Ronon left.

John lay back on his bed and stared at the ceiling for a long time.

***

The very next day they had a mission to M5R-781. Word of mouth had it that  
they traded with other worlds and had more to offer than beans, so it was a  
good sign.

It was a very bad sign, however, when they walked down the ramp of the  
Puddle Jumper and their greeting party all took out weapons as soon as John  
began introducing himself and his team.

"Blasphemy! Impure!" they yelled.

What? "Hey, you agreed to speak with us," Rodney pointed out in his usual  
ungracious manner.

"You have a FEMALE speaking for you! You travel with them! Females are  
impure! They must not touch us or our land!"

"If females are impure, how do you reproduce? Do little bigoted aliens  
spring from your foreheads?" Rodney asked sarcastically.

"We visit them once a year so we may increase our numbers. And we take male  
children we find. Women contaminate. We cannot trade with those who  
willingly allow contamination."

"I'm not - " began John, but the men all backed away, making some kind of  
sign. John sighed. He could never explain, not to these people. It likely  
wouldn't matter to them anyway, and antagonizing them wouldn't be a good  
idea. "You know, it doesn't matter. Let's go," he said to his team.

Back in Atlantis, he found himself listening to an argument between Rodney  
and Teyla. "It's an ethical issue!" Rodney was saying. "We can't condone  
their stupid beliefs by trading with them."

"It does not matter, Rodney, if we get what we want. We will simply send  
another team. Major Lorne can take his team; they are all men."

"No, we can't. I don't want to trade with idiots. You saw how they looked at  
you and John. It's disgusting, what they believe."

"But they are THEIR beliefs," Teyla said. "We do not have to like or even  
respect them, but we can follow them if we want this trade. The terms are  
fair and both sides will get what they want. I see no problem."

John looked at Elizabeth. He honestly didn't feel he could weigh in on  
either side of the argument. Side with Rodney and he was being impractical  
and maybe even looking at it from a woman's point of view; side with Teyla  
and be accused of being a typical male. Ha.

Fortunately, Elizabeth made the decision. "I think it's worth it," she said.  
"It would be a great help to have another source of food. The Daedalus could  
bring other things we need instead of mainly food supplies."

"Elizabeth - " began Rodney, but she cut him off.

"No, Rodney. It's my decision. And it's made. Major Lorne will take Ronon  
and his own team and complete the trade."

***

"Well, that was a huge waste of a day!" Rodney said loudly as they walked  
through the halls together after a late dinner in the mess. "Standing around  
being called impure, then having two women - WOMEN - argue with me that it's  
okay to trade with those misogynistic bastards. I almost expected them to  
sneer, 'You allow your females to wear clothing!'"

They stopped outside Sheppard's room, and John stopped Rodney's tirade by  
simply saying, "Rodney."

"Well, it's true!"

"Listen, they were referring to me as well. Not just Teyla. I'm sure they  
don't care that I'm really a guy, and that I got this way because of an  
accident with Ancient technology."

"Well, they're stupid," Rodney said.

"I don't care," John said.

"About what? Which part?"

"The being a woman part." He held up a hand before Rodney could start in on  
his 'you're not a woman' spiel. "I know I'm not really a woman. But it  
doesn't bother me anymore. I'm okay."

"Good. That's... good," said Rodney.

"Goodnight, McKay."

"Goodnight, Colonel."

John went into his room and took off his clothes. If he really WAS okay, he  
should be able to do this. He lay down on the bed and put his hand between  
his legs. Hmm... nothing. He insinuated his fingers further down, into the  
folds that he found there. Oooh... better. And then he touched the bundle of  
nerves that made sparks behind his eyes, and knew he had it.

It wasn't so bad to do this to himself; after all, he'd done this to women  
before. Only, you know, with his tongue. Women loved it when you went down  
on them, and John suddenly got why. It was very pleasurable. Not the raw,  
fast pleasure that jerking off as a man had produced, but a slower and  
somehow more intimate one.

John rubbed himself, wondering who else in two galaxies could claim to know  
this pleasure from both sides? He wondered if he should tell Rodney, if only  
to watch him splutter, blush and then bluster. John's hand sped up, his  
pleasure increasing. Oh, yeah, right there...

He tensed up, suddenly having a vivid flash of what Rodney would look like  
standing there, watching him. John's entire body tensed up as he came, his  
back arching off the bed as short grunts issued from his mouth.

Wow. He lay there feeling sated and sleepy. He managed to use a tissue from  
his bedside to wipe his hand off before he fell asleep, half wondering what  
Rodney would say about this new development.

***

In the end, he didn't say anything to either Rodney or Ronon, but they  
noticed that his mood did improve. Another visit by the Daedalus brought  
more new personnel as some rotated back to Earth, and this time John made  
sure to introduce himself as soon as they beamed down. It just made things a  
lot simpler.

The Wraith still plagued them on missions, and they still pissed the Wraith  
off by surviving. Not that he was keeping score, but John did feel that an  
announcement that the 50 Wraith hive ships they had estimated were in the  
galaxy when they arrived had dropped below the 30 mark was in order. Still a  
ways to go, but Ronon might actually get his wish and be alive when the  
Wraith were eradicated.

The next visit from the Daedalus brought Rodney some news. John had been  
spending a lot of time with Rodney. He had before, of course, but Rodney  
seemed to understand him and his condition the way no one else - except  
maybe Michael - could. Only Michael had experienced being turned into  
something and someone you didn't want to be against your will. Assuming  
Michael had survived, John didn't think they'd be forming a support group  
and discussing it.

But Rodney somehow understood. John was afraid to ask him why. Perhaps it  
was Rodney's first name; perhaps it was because Rodney was pretty much  
socially inept; perhaps because Rodney knew what it was to be an outsider.  
He'd been an outsider living in the States, he'd been an outsider while  
working for the Air Force, and John had no doubt that he'd been one as a  
child too.

John told himself that it was solidarity that made him want to be around  
Rodney. That time, the first time he'd masturbated in his female body, had  
been an aberration. He didn't *actually* want Rodney to see him naked and  
watch. He didn't.

***

Rodney came into the mess, a huge grin on his face, and immediately went  
over to his team. "Look!" he said, holding out a very official-looking form.  
"I'm getting an award for a paper I wrote!"

"Another one?" John asked sarcastically.

Rodney's face fell, and John kicked himself. He always did that - ruined  
Rodney's fun. At first he'd done it because Rodney'd been so damn arrogant  
and sure of himself, but now he did it out of habit. He had to stop. "I  
mean," he said, making his tone lighter, "you've received awards before,  
right?"

Rodney immediately perked up again, and John wanted to kick himself even  
harder. It really took little to make his friend happy. Citrus-free food, a  
decent bed, power bars, safety. That was pretty much it.

"Yeah, of course I have. This one is cool, though. It's for a paper I wrote  
when I was in Russia. I mean, the fact that I could think straight at all  
when I was there is a miracle in itself, but this paper was on naquadah  
generator technology. Of course, it couldn't be *directly* about that, so I  
argued about theoretical elements that could possibly provide energy, based  
on known science. I got there before Carter did!"

"Carter hates you," John said.

"She's just intimidated by my intelligence," Rodney said. "She doesn't hate  
me; she kissed me once."

"Only once?" John said, smirking.

"Funny," said Rodney in a tone that let everyone know he didn't find it  
funny in the least.

"Please continue, Rodney," Teyla said politely.

"Once the world finds out about naquadah and how it works they'll know what  
my paper was really about! I'll be considered light years ahead of my time!  
I don't think I'll get the Nobel for this, but one has to pace oneself."

John bit down in order to stop a hurtful comment from coming out, and Ronon  
noticed, and smirked.

"What?" Rodney asked Ronon.

"Nothing," said Ronon blandly.

"Anyway, they're presenting a whole slew of awards for various scientific  
papers in Vegas in a week's time. Elizabeth has already given me permission  
to go back to Earth." He looked... hopeful.

John suddenly knew that Rodney was hoping someone from his team would want  
to come with him. He could probably take Zelenka, but he wanted his team, or  
someone from his team. John couldn't let him down. "I'll go with you," he  
offered.

Rodney smiled again in that grateful way he had that made you realise he  
valued you. "That'd be great!" he said. "We can book into the hotel and  
watch cable for days before the awards dinner. Or go out and gamble. Watch  
Celine Dion. Maybe they'd even let us visit the real CSI lab."

"I like the idea of ordering room service 24/7 and polishing off the entire  
contents of the mini-bar," John added.

"Yeah," said Rodney.

"When do we leave?"

"Two days," Rodney said. "Enough time to rent tuxes... uh." He stopped.  
"Maybe you shouldn't come," he mumbled. "They'll think you're a woman."

"I could be Marlene Dietrich," John said.

"Not with that hair."

"Who's Marlene Dietrich?" Ronon asked.

"John showed me a movie of hers," Teyla said. "She wore a man's suit."

"Which she looked stunning in!" John added.

Rodney was looking at the floor, not at him, and John realised that being  
out in *public*, by himself, on Earth, would not be the same as being part  
of a military unit in another galaxy. The way people on Earth treated you  
was based on how you looked. And he looked like a woman. He also knew that  
Rodney wanted him there, but didn't want him to be uncomfortable. So he'd  
bite the bullet and do what it took to be a good friend.

"Hey," John said. "We can use this to our advantage. I can pretend to be  
your *date*. Just for the evening."

"You'll still come?" Rodney asked, his voice full of hope.

"Yeah," said John. "Can't turn down cable and room service!"

"What will we do when you have to be introduced to people? Some scientists  
in my field are nosier than you'd think."

"Same as always: Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, United States Air Force."

Rodney looked skeptical.

"And I'll tell them my parents wanted a boy." He grinned at Rodney. "I bet  
Colonel Carter has problems, what with people thinking she's a guy until  
they meet her."

"Why?" asked Teyla.

"Oh, her name is Samantha," said Rodney, "but lots of people call her Sam,  
which can also be a guy's name."

"It's settled then," John said. "I'd say I'll go pack, but I think I'll buy  
some stuff when I'm home." Caldwell - or whoever had shopped for him when  
this had first happened - had weird taste, though John didn't look bad in  
the stuff he'd gotten. It just wasn't *his* taste.

***

"I love this room!" Rodney said, sitting down on the bed. "Just the right  
kind of mattress for my back."

John sat down on the other bed. They were set up in a suite, with a vanity  
area in between two double beds and a sliding door that one could close to  
make two rooms. Both opened onto a huge lounge area, and there was a huge  
bathroom with a jacuzzi beyond.

"I don't think I've ever stayed in a hotel this fancy," John said. "Nice."

"Yeah, trust science geeks to schedule physics awards in Sin City. The  
awards dinner is in the *huge* ballroom. They also do weddings, of course."

"How do you know that?" John asked.

"Huh?" said Rodney, rummaging around in his pack. They had both brought  
backpacks with only the necessities and would get the rest here. "Oh, I read  
the brochure while we were checking in."

John smirked at the memory of the concierge when she saw him. She'd felt the  
need to double-check, which John had found hilarious. But darn it, he hadn't  
been able to flirt with her, which had been his first instinct.

"Doctor Rodney McKay and... Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard?" she had  
almost squeaked.

"Yeah, yeah," Rodney had said. "Can we hurry this up? I'd like to check in.  
It's been a long day and I'm tired."

John came to the poor woman's rescue. "He's McKay; I'm Sheppard."

"Oh! I just need some identification and we can get you into your suite."

John handed her his Air Force ID. He'd decided to use that one since it  
didn't have the person's gender mentioned anywhere on it, and it had been  
the easiest to get re-issued with his 'new' photo.

Rodney gave her his Canadian passport although he also had an Air Force ID,  
which listed him as a "special consultant".

They had been taken up to the suite, where they were currently unpacking.

***

"We have two days," John said. "Let's see what's on pay-per-view, or we can  
just watch ESPN or something. Unless you really wanna go see Celine Dion."

"Nah." Rodney was busy cracking open the mini-bar. "Great stuff in here.  
Oooh, dark Toblerone!" He held it against his chest as though afraid  
Sheppard might try to steal it.

"So, what shall we watch?" John asked again.

"Huh? Oh, I don't care."

John checked pay-per-view and then regular channels. "Sci-Fi is showing  
Blade Runner!" he enthused. "I haven't seen that for years!"

"It better be the Director's Cut," Rodney said, flopping onto the extremely  
comfortable sofa beside him.

"I liked the original," John said, just to needle him.

"Yeah, yeah, the problem is that even with the Director's Cut, if you've  
seen the original enough times your brain can just supply the voiceover and  
it doesn't make it any different. Except for that lame ending."

They began to munch and drink their way through the contents of the mini-bar  
while watching the best science fiction movie ever made. And if they enjoyed  
arguing over whether or not Deckard was a replicant a little too much, they  
pretended it was because it was such a good movie.

***

John conked out first. Rodney, being an old pro at staying up late watching  
sci-fi on Sci-Fi, was still awake when Sheppard sort of leaned over into his  
lap. Rodney looked down. John was still out for the count. Rodney, having  
nowhere to put his left arm, sort of leaned it on Sheppard's shoulder.

As he looked down, he was struck by what a domestic picture this made.  
People would think John was his girlfriend, or that they were married. He  
smiled ironically to himself. He had had feelings for John Sheppard since  
they'd met, but John was completely and utterly straight. He was Kirk; he  
got all the alien females. He'd never notice one geeky, slightly pudgy  
scientist with a tendency to annoy everyone he'd ever met.

Petty, arrogant, bad with people. The Carter-hallucination had been right.  
In his own mind he knew this about himself, so he'd never tried to get any  
closer than John would allow.

They were close friends, and that was enough. When this had first happened,  
Rodney had honestly been able to look at Sheppard, even half naked, and not  
feel anything. He'd fallen in love with Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard in  
all his masculine, macho glory.

But as time had gone by, Rodney had understood that the outside didn't  
matter. John was the same no matter what, and he still loved him. Rodney  
didn't delude himself that anything would ever happen now. He doubted that  
John would want to do anything sexually that only a woman could do. But it  
didn't stop him from wanting it. "I love you," he whispered to the sleeping  
form.

***

The next day John woke up on the couch by himself. Rodney had put a throw  
over him and he'd slept fine. The couch was comfy, and huge.

Rodney was also stirring; probably because they kept the same hours on  
Atlantis.

"Hey, Rodney, wanna have breakfast and then hit the strip? I want to get  
some decent civvies for when we get back."

"Yeah, okay."

The streets of Vegas had every store and brand you could want, and John  
bought an inordinate amount of mono-coloured T-shirts, some jeans, sneakers,  
socks, underwear, pants. A couple of times he was frowned at by sales  
assistants because he was in the men's section, but he didn't care.

John waited until they got back to the suite before trying anything on.  
Everything fitted, except the pants. They were the right size for his new  
body, but they pulled up between the legs and were uncomfortable. "Dammit,  
I'll have to exchange these," he said. "They don't fit properly."

Rodney came and looked. "I'll tell you why. My sister sometimes used to try  
to steal my 'cool pants', but they didn't fit her either. She informed me  
that it was because men and women's hip placement is different." He stopped,  
not wanting to say what the next logical step was.

"I need to buy pants for women." John said it for him, and Rodney just  
nodded.

"Yeah."

"I guess I can do that. My self-image isn't that fragile. But you stay here;  
I'll brave the stores. How women spend entire days in a mall escapes me."

***

After he finished his exchanges, John went back to the hotel but didn't go  
to the suite right away. He wanted to do something for Rodney, something  
that would both please him and freak him out a little. He wanted to make up  
for all those times he'd hurt Rodney's feelings. And for what? Because  
Rodney was different and unique? He l... really liked Rodney and wanted to  
do something special for him.

So... hair appointment in the hotel's salon. Manicure and pedicure.  
Professional make-up job. Appointment in the exclusive boutique for a dress.  
A *dress*! The thought of actually wearing the dress scared the absolute  
crap out of him, but he'd do it for Rodney. He would accompany Rodney to  
this thing looking like a million bucks.

They watched more TV together after he got back, stopping only to go  
downstairs and eat a hearty meal full of the things they hadn't been able to  
eat, what with being in another galaxy and all.

"I wonder if this place serves tava beans?" John asked, grinning.

"Don't even joke," Rodney said, cutting into his medium steak with relish.  
"Remember those small animal things on M4R-228?"

"Tasted like chicken," John said.

"They did not!"

"I'm joking, Rodney. Geez, did you never watch Babylon 5?"

"As many episodes as possible, considering I was at Area 51 at the time."  
Rodney grinned. "Daniel Jackson told me that there's a lizard-thing on  
Abydos that actually does taste like chicken. But then again, he thinks all  
MREs taste like chicken, so I'm not putting much stock in what he says."

"Rodney..." John began seriously, and saw Rodney's face fall. He suddenly  
knew, without knowing how he knew, that Rodney was expecting to be blown off.  
That John was actually going to suggest he go to the awards dinner by  
himself to receive his award. It must have happened to him before, and not  
only once. He actually saw the minute muscle movements as Rodney steeled  
himself to hear it again.

"I want to look good for tomorrow night," John said, noticing Rodney's  
immediate relief. It warmed him. "So tomorrow I'm gonna go get some stuff  
done. Don't expect me until just before the thing starts."

"What are you going to do?" Rodney asked.

"You'll see tomorrow night," John said, and refused to say anything more  
throughout their dinner, despite Rodney's valiant attempts to worm it out of  
him.

***

The next day John left the suite after a leisurely breakfast to get all his  
errands done. He hoped six or so hours was enough time; he'd heard horror  
stories from women he'd dated about how long it took to get everything *just  
right* for a formal occasion.

He picked one of the three boutiques in the hotel by instinct more than  
anything. He'd always trusted his instincts, and they'd kept him and his  
team alive more than once. So he went with them this time, too.

The boutique was the smallest and seemed to have a small collection, but it  
was *one dress*. It wasn't like he needed a couple dozen! After tonight he  
was never wearing a dress again anyway.

"What are you looking for?" asked the saleswomen. She was around fortyish,  
but stylish and friendly. "I need a dress for tonight's awards banquet.  
Something that'll really look good." John grinned his old, flirty grin,  
forgetting for a moment that he'd decided not to use it on women anymore,  
because it made them nervous.

"I have just the thing! And I believe it's your size!" She bustled off and  
returned with the most amazing emerald-green dress. It was definitely more  
of a formal evening dress, but with 'celebrity' touches, such as no back to  
speak of and twin straps on either shoulder. The material looked silky; John  
didn't dare ask what it was. He just numbly took it and went to try it on.

When he came out, he knew he'd found the right outfit. The woman smiled  
hugely and told him the colour brought out his eyes. John, not sure whether  
to be amused or scared shitless, began to visualize an "outfreak meter" in  
his head. This was... a little freaky, but he could deal with it. The meter  
in his head stayed mostly in the green.

Until the woman wanted him to wear strappy high heels that would no doubt  
cause him to fall over and break an ankle. He insisted that his shoes had to  
be completely flat, and was a bit nonplussed by her suddenly sympathetic  
attitude. "Oh, he's one of *those*," the woman said.

"Uh, sorry, one of what?"

"Your date. He's one of those men who can't stand it if the woman is taller  
than he is."

John had to decide whether to tell the truth or malign Rodney. Heels would  
make them the same height, but he knew he couldn't explain that to her - and  
anyway, he'd never get the hang of walking in them by tonight. Finally he  
simply said, "I just prefer flat shoes."

The woman clearly didn't believe him, but she found him a lovely pair of  
flat, open-toed shoes that would go with the dress. She tried to sell him  
lingerie, but John only consented to buying *one* pair of panties that would  
go under the dress without leaving lines. The things he did for Rodney!

Next up was his appearance. Since he was having it all done at the luxury  
salon in the hotel, he was able to relax a little and just go with it.  
Having his finger and toenails scraped and buffed and goodness knows what  
else (he wasn't looking) was low on the outfreak meter... maybe yellow. When  
they messed with his hair and he heard snipping and saw his great hair  
falling to the floor... slightly higher.

Then they wound *foil* around his hair, and he started to visualize the  
outfreak meter reaching into the red. But he'd been the one who'd said they  
had carte blanche to make him look presentable for the awards dinner. He'd  
worn a button-down shirt so that when he had to change it wouldn't mess up  
his hairdo. Was that awfully girly? He thought maybe it was.

Then they started with the creams and powders and made him close his eyes  
and he could feel liquid on his eyelids and... eugh! But he managed to sit  
still until there was a cessation of activity. "What did you put on my  
eyes?" he asked.

"It's a beautiful liquid-based eyeshadow. Silver with a touch of green, so  
it'll go with your dress and eyes. You'll look great, I promise."

John was finally done after four freaking *hours* in the place! He didn't  
look in any mirrors; he just mumbled, "Fine," every time they asked him what  
he thought. He thanked all the women who'd worked on him (something like six  
different women!), paid, included a good tip, and left.

***

John opened the door of the suite. "Rodney? Don't look, okay? I'm gonna go  
in the bedroom and change. Then you can tell me if I make a suitable  
'date'."

"Yeah, okay."

"Are your eyes closed?"

"Yes! Hurry up! I'm getting dizzy!"

John smiled with affection and rushed past his friend, closing the bedroom  
off from the sitting area. He changed as fast as possible, especially  
considering that he was terrified of ripping the dress. The panties were, to  
put it mildly, incredibly uncomfortable, but after having the life sucked  
out of you by a Wraith, little things like scratchy underwear didn't matter  
that much. Especially since he'd only be wearing them for a few hours. It  
freaked him out more (whoops, the meter went towards orange) that it was  
women's underwear than that it was a tiny scrap of lacy material that barely  
covered anything.

John put on the shoes and his outfit was complete. For the first time that  
day, he deliberately looked in the mirror. He'd caught glimpses before, but  
this was a full-length mirror and showed the dress, and him, in all their  
glory.

"Oh. My. God."

Rodney's voice came from the next room, "What?"

"Nothing; I'll be out in a second." John stared at himself. He would have  
wanted to date the person in the mirror. She (and he looked like one in that  
outfit) was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Her hair was artfully  
messy, with a blonde highlight here and there, and a little glitter spray  
that twinkled occasionally when he moved his head. The hairdresser had  
included a green, jeweled clip that matched the dress.

The woman in the mirror could have been going to the Oscars. John hadn't  
realized just how female his body really looked, because it had been encased  
in men's T-shirts and Air Force BDUs and nondescript clothing. But the woman  
in the mirror had a perfect figure - more perfect than Teyla's, if that was  
possible. The dress, which was almost floor-length, showed off every curve.

And every time John moved, the woman in the mirror moved too. That was the  
freakiest of all. But his outfreak meter didn't break; instead, John decided  
he could be her for this night. Just to try it once, and to be there for  
Rodney.

John smirked to himself as he opened the door, anticipating Rodney's  
reaction.

Rodney half looked up when he came out, stopped and looked again.

"Well?" John prompted.

"..."

"Rodney, say something."

"Oh. My. God."

John grinned. "That's what I said."

"You look... oh my God, John. You look beautiful," Rodney finally said.

That threw Sheppard a bit. 'Beautiful'? He'd expected 'hot'. "You think?"

Rodney's eyes were like saucers. "Yes, I think. You..." He stopped, took a  
deep breath. "Thank you for doing this for me. I'll be the envy of everyone  
at this thing."

"Glad to help. Now you need to get changed. Hope you got a nice tux," John  
added. He really hated tuxes, but he'd worn them a time or two at weddings  
and so on. He knew he looked good in them. Not as good as he looked in this  
dress, though. He smiled to himself, hoping Rodney would look good too.

***

Rodney did. They walked in, and quite a few people turned and looked. Rodney  
clearly knew some of them, but there were many others who were looking at  
*him*. That was unnerving. John wondered if beautiful women, even models,  
ever got used to being stared at like that.

Their table was near the front. These awards were prestigious, and some said  
a precursor to the Nobel Prize. Rodney didn't think so, and had expounded at  
length to John on why not, but John could tell he was still impressed by  
being up front.

There were three other couples at their table. Rodney knew two of the  
scientists and introduced them. "Doctor Sandra Parker, Doctor Elias  
MacDonald, may I present Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard of the United  
States Air Force."

Both doctors looked surprised, but quickly covered and introduced their  
dates. The third couple, a married pair of scientists from Australia,  
introduced themselves.

MacDonald, who was sitting next to Sheppard, asked the question. "John.  
Interesting name for a woman. Are you really in the Air Force?"

If Rodney hadn't warned him that this type of scientist tended to have weak  
interpersonal skills, John might have been annoyed at the rude question. As  
it was, he knew that with geeky or nosy scientists, the best you could do  
was answer back in the same way.

"My parents wanted a boy. And yes, I'm really in the Air Force."

The man's date leaned over and asked, "So you fly planes and stuff?"

"Blackhawk, Osprey, Harrier, Bell Jetranger, you name it," John said. "I'm  
like Murdock in the A-Team; if it's got wings I can fly it."

They talked briefly of other things before the presentation started, but  
both John and Rodney could tell that the others at the table were impressed.  
And not with the way he looked in the dress.

There were twenty awards to be presented, all for varying theoretical  
physics papers which either broke new ground or had some advantageous  
practical application. The draw for those who were not receiving awards was  
that each paper was described briefly by someone from the awards committee.  
"It's supposed to lead to 'idea sharing'," Rodney had scoffed. "But most of  
them only come because they want to hear what their rivals are doing, or  
figure out ways to poke holes in their theories. Since all the papers are  
published together in a booklet and given out to all those invited, it's  
really like having your high school composition graded by the teenage  
football jock who gave you a wedgie every day."

"Brutal, huh?" John had said.

"You have no idea," Rodney had answered. "Fighting the Wraith is less  
stressful."

Rodney's award was eighth in order. Not too bad, although John knew he'd  
obviously have preferred it to be first. He listened attentively to the  
precis of the paper, recognizing many aspects of naquadah that Rodney  
couldn't overtly identify in the paper itself.

Most recipients said a little something after receiving the award. Mostly,  
they thanked the staff of the institutions they worked for or their loved  
ones. Standard stuff.

Rodney got up there and said, "I'd like to thank some people in the United  
States Air Force, who I obviously can't mention by name, for giving me the  
opportunity to do this kind of research. Someday what's written in here will  
be fact. Thank you."

There was clapping, but also murmurings from the floor. John, however, had  
known not to expect effusiveness and so he wasn't surprised or disappointed.  
He knew Rodney couldn't mention Air Force officers by name, and he could  
only mention the USAF because it was well known he worked for them.

There was a break from presentations after the tenth one, and the first  
course was served. John didn't have to answer any more inane questions about  
his ability to fly aircraft, but he could almost see the minds of their  
tablemates ticking over, wondering if he was one of the people in the U.S.  
Air Force whom Rodney couldn't mention.

By the time the presentations were over, John was feeling pleasantly mellow,  
a little full and quite all right with the world. Rodney said that people  
usually stayed for about an hour afterwards to mingle and drink - especially  
drink - but that they could leave if John was uncomfortable.

"I'm fine, Rodney, you mingle a bit, talk physics with some nutty  
professor," John said.

Rodney wandered off and John went to the table at the back where they were  
serving what was left of the champagne. He got a glass for Rodney and,  
spying him at the other end of the room, went on over.

Rodney and his conversation partner were off to the side, so neither of them  
saw him right away. Which was good because John heard something that made  
him blazingly angry, on both his and Rodney's behalf.

"Oh, come on, Rodney, the only time a good-looking woman would give you the  
time of day was after hours of begging!" the man said, incredibly snidely.

"Fine, think whatever you like," Rodney retorted. "The fact that she's in  
the Air Force doesn't mean she can't be beautiful."

"Escort service, right?" the man said.

"U.S. Air Force."

"Come on, you can tell me. She must have cost a lot. Did you have to pay for  
the dress, too?"

If they hadn't been in public, John would have punched the guy. His punch  
was as lethal as ever, having been worked in during training with Teyla. And  
maybe a woman would have gone over, acted polite, and pretended not to hear.  
But he wasn't, in point of fact, a woman, and he could do the next best  
thing to punching the guy, which was to confront him.

He pushed past the guy, and not softly, causing the man to have to grab his  
drink before it sloshed onto the floor.

"Got you some champagne," he said, handing Rodney the glass. He looked at  
the man. "Try to comprehend this. Rodney is a top scientist in his field.  
I'm a Lieutenant Colonel in the Air Force. Rodney does not lie, and I could  
be brought up on charges for claiming to be an Air Force officer if I wasn't.  
You getting me?" John was right in the guy's face, despite the fact that his  
female body was about three inches shorter than Rodney's nemesis.

The man actually swallowed hard and backed away. Rodney tried putting a hand  
on John's upper arm - to get his attention, not restrain him. "John. Does it  
really matter, in the grand scheme of things?"

John ignored him. "I love Rodney," he stated. "He's saved my life dozens of  
times. I've saved his. It's what people who work together on dangerous  
projects *do*. I wanted to be here to support him, and it's just as well I  
was!"

"John..."

"You ran out into the desert of an al... a dangerous country with only a  
handgun, and you saved me. What about the stuff with the volcano? You saved  
all of us. You went in... into a hostile *environment* to get me out."

"Well, the stuff with the volcano was mostly your idea," Rodney said.

"You still figured out a way to make it work. And it worked great!"

Rodney smiled, remembering. "Yeah, it really did. I was brilliant."

"Who gets credit for the time when you and Ronon were captured and cocoon...  
er, locked up?"

"Ronon got us out of the... the cell, but you got us off... off the roof in  
the... airplane."

"Well, technically that was Michael. What about the enzyme?"

They were so busy arguing over who had saved whom that they didn't even  
notice when the man walked off, rather contrite and confused.

***

They were still discussing the various rescues when they got back to the  
suite. John smiled. "We scared that guy."

"Yeah." Rodney pulled off his tie. He looked... odd in a tie. Odd but rather  
dashing. "Sheppard."

John immediately paid attention. Rodney seldom called him that anymore.  
"Yeah?"

"Back there, in the ballroom of the hotel." He paused. It was such a long  
pause that John started to wonder if they were in a time dilation field.

"YEAH?"

"You said something."

"What, exactly?"

"You said... you said... you told him... and I'll understand if it was just  
to freak the guy out, but you said that you... Loved. Me."

John had said the first things that had popped into mind. It didn't make  
them any less true; in fact, being said on the spur of the moment meant they  
*were* true. "Yeah." He couldn't think of what else to say.

"So?"

"What do you want me to say, Rodney? That it's not true? I can't do that,  
because it is. I know you don't feel the same way, so what does it matter?"

"What?! How do you know? I don't know that! I mean I do know! I mean I know  
how I... I feel... and whatnot."

"And how is that, Rodney?"

"I do. I mean, God, John. How could you think...? I've loved you since I met  
you. But I knew you weren't interested, or you were at least straight, and  
I'm straight too, so it was weird. But we're here in Vegas and all that  
other stuff just seems so far away."

"It is far away, Rodney." John smiled. "Millions of light-years away."

Rodney turned and faced John. They were still standing in the middle of the  
suite. "So what does that mean?"

In answer John grabbed Rodney, pushed him against the wall and kissed him.  
Now he could admit to himself that he'd been wanting to do this for months.

Rodney pulled away. "No. You'll regret this later. You're not yourself and  
you might hate it..."

John slid one strap off his shoulder. "Rodney. For once listen to me when I  
say, shut up." He grabbed Rodney's hand and put it on the other strap. "I  
want you to touch this body, to touch *me*. It's my body now and it doesn't  
matter, not with us."

Their eyes locked, and whatever they each saw there was a good and beautiful  
thing. Decision made, Rodney slowly slid the strap down and the dress pooled  
around Sheppard's feet. "You... you're beautiful. Now, and even in your  
original body. You're so beautiful." Rodney's breath hitched.

John enjoyed having *this* person's eyes on him. "Men aren't beautiful."

"You are."

"So show me. Touch me."

Rodney put his hands on John's shoulders and moved them downwards across his  
collarbones, onto... onto... those *female* things. Breasts. He could say it.  
He cupped them in his hands and heard Sheppard gasp. "T... touch me there  
harder," John whispered.

Rodney rubbed the nipples with his thumbs, and John breathed in short gasps.  
"God! That feels..."

Rodney pushed him slightly away, leaned down and took one in his mouth. John  
jerked, grabbing Rodney's head and pulling him closer.

For himself, John had never felt anything like it. He'd thought his nipples  
were sensitive in a male body... women had always appreciated his response  
when they'd done this... but those occasions were like ghost-memories on his  
skin compared to this. Every time Rodney sucked a little, John felt a tug  
deep inside him. "Rodney... the other one!" he begged, and Rodney obediently  
switched.

John felt a rush of moisture between his legs. He knew how to get women  
excited, but he'd never thought he'd ever experience it from the other side.  
He knew what it meant, knew this female body was readying itself for  
intercourse, to have a man's penis *inside* him. He knew it, and he wasn't  
afraid.

Finally he pulled Rodney's hair a little and coaxed him away, to stand up  
straight.

Rodney looked dazed, as though he couldn't believe this had actually  
happened. John smiled and unbuttoned the shirt his friend was still wearing,  
pushing it and the jacket off his shoulders, not caring that they lay  
rumpled on the floor. He fumbled a little with the belt and zipper of  
Rodney's pants because he wasn't used to doing it from this angle, but  
finally the pants came off. Rodney stumbled a little as he struggled out of  
his shoes.

John smirked to himself. Rodney was standing there in boxers and socks, with  
an erection which was obvious now that the heavy pants were off. He noticed  
Rodney noticing the smirk and becoming nervous, so John fit himself against  
Rodney, feeling Rodney's erection low on his belly. He wanted it so badly he  
was ready to lie down right here on the floor and beg.

But he didn't need to. Rodney, looking amazed and unsure, said, "The... the  
bedroom."

And they walked the ten or so steps into the bedroom.

Strangely enough, Rodney was the one who sat down on the bed looking up at  
John. John stood there in only a small pair of underwear and marveled at the  
sight before him. His friend, his teammate, his annoying scientist, was  
breathing heavily and desperate to have sex - with him! He had made Rodney  
this hot and desperate, and he wasn't far behind at all. It was strange to  
have an emptiness inside you that only a man's cock could fill, but that was  
how it felt. He wanted Rodney McKay more than he'd ever wanted anyone in his  
life.

"Make love to me, Rodney. I want you. God, I want you so bad."

"I... I'm not sure..." Rodney said. "We can... do stuff, but maybe  
intercourse isn't a good idea. You're new to this, and..."

John leaned down and kissed him: a dirty, sloppy, 'fuck me' kiss until  
Rodney pulled away, almost hyperventilating. "I want you inside me," John  
said. "Don't take that away. Put your cock inside me and fuck me. I need it  
so bad. Please, McKay."

The use of his last name seemed to pull Rodney from his daze. "I... okay.  
Okay. God." He paused, breathed in and out. "How do you want to do this?"

John took off the scrap of underwear and crawled onto the bed, opening his  
legs, completely shameless. Completely desperate and needy. "Like this. Take  
your boxers off, McKay."

Rodney only seemed to notice now that he still had them on. He jumped off  
the bed, pulling them off, almost tripping in the process. John, watching  
from the middle of the bed, had to think of the Wraith to stop himself from  
laughing. Now would SO not be a good time. He felt a rush of affection,  
completely divorced from his lust, when he saw Rodney pull off the socks too.

 

And he stared. His friend had a definite scientist's body: soft and fleshy,  
but still well-defined in places. His erection was impressive: not the  
largest John had ever seen, but slightly larger than John himself in his  
original body. The tip was already moist and red; John wanted to lick it.  
But he knew if he even went near Rodney's penis with his mouth, it would be  
all over. And he wanted Rodney's penis in his... vagina.

Again John had to think of something else to stop from laughing. Men didn't  
have vaginas, did they? But he did.

Rodney was over him now, on all fours, looking down at him. "John, I..."

"Do it," John said, arching his hips up. "Please, I need it."

He looked down his body and watched as Rodney took hold of himself, and then  
he could feel the head of his friend's erection pressing against him. He  
moved his eyes to Rodney's face and saw that his friend was waiting for  
permission.

He arched up again, murmuring, "Yes," as Rodney slid into him. He was very  
wet, but it still burned slightly as his tissues expanded to accommodate the  
penetration.

Rodney's body was against his, not leaning all his weight on him, and he put  
his face into Sheppard's neck. "Oooh." But he still held still.

"Do it," John said, his voice harsh and full of lust as he finally,  
*finally*, felt Rodney move inside him. McKay pulled out slightly, then  
pushed back in experimentally. And again.

"Yeah," John said on the second incredibly slow thrust. "More. Fuck me.  
More."

That seemed to be what Rodney needed to hear, and he moved faster, thrusting  
with a deliberate rhythm, allowing John to get used to this, to him. John  
was grateful, but also desperate. It wasn't enough.

"Harder, fuck me harder. Please!" he begged.

Rodney took that as his cue and did. The burning sensation faded as John's  
body cooperated, and it began to feel very good indeed. But it still wasn't  
enough. John maneuvered his legs up and over Rodney's thighs, deepening the  
penetration, and... there!

"Yes!" John gasped. "Rodney, oh God!" He tightened his legs behind Rodney,  
pushing Rodney against himself, wanting him deeper and deeper as he grew  
closer to climax.

For his part, Rodney was still trying to think of Sheppard's needs first,  
but it was becoming more and more difficult, as John pulled him in, his  
desperation and need so obvious and palpable that Rodney couldn't resist  
giving John what he wanted. Giving them both what they both wanted. He had  
never fucked a woman this hard before, but none of them had gripped him with  
their thighs and forced him deeper inside them, either. Not like this.

Rodney managed to lift his head and kiss John, who just about devoured him,  
even as he drove into John with a rhythm that was becoming unsteady and  
erratic. "Oh, uh," were about the only sounds that Rodney could make. Most  
women felt debased at male sex sounds, but of course John would be different.  
He let out a series of groans under Rodney, matching Rodney's own noises.

And that was it. Rodney felt himself fall into orgasm as his cock erupted,  
sending pulses of semen into his friend's body. His hips moved of their own  
accord as he emptied himself. And then John's legs grabbed him even tighter  
if that were possible, and John made a sound like he was dying, and his body  
gripped Rodney's cock as John came, arching up under Rodney's weight,  
hanging on for dear life as his body spasmed.

They both collapsed at the same time. Rodney knew he was dead weight, but he  
didn't have the energy to move. John's legs were splayed open loosely and he  
didn't even seem to care that he could barely breathe.

Finally, John pushed at Rodney's shoulder. "McKay."

"Hmm."

"Move, I can't breathe."

With great effort, Rodney slid out from between John's legs and heaved  
himself over to the side. John didn't move; he stayed in position and  
breathed several measured breaths, in and out.

Rodney wished he knew what to say in this type of situation. Usually when he  
said something like, "Wow, that was good," the woman would get huffy for  
some reason and snark, "Good? Only good?" But saying it was "great" got him  
tongue-lashings for using cliches, and women asking him if he had the first  
clue of what *not* to say.

Apparently not. Rodney stared at the ceiling, deciding it was better not to  
say anything at all. But John rescued him.

"I think you killed me," John said. He too was staring at the ceiling.

"Is that good?"

"Rodney, I can't even move, I think I've pulled muscles on the inside of my  
thighs, my calves hurt and I have semen dripping out of me. I don't think  
I've ever had better sex."

Rodney turned his head and looked at John. John was looking back at him with  
a self-satisfied grin on his face, not seeming to regret it at all. But  
Rodney still didn't know what to say, and again, John understood and did the  
talking.

"I've never wanted it that bad. It was like I had a space inside that was  
just aching until you fucked me. Now I know what women meant about being  
'empty' and saying, 'fill me'. I always thought they were saying what they  
thought I wanted to hear." He laughed; a short bark of laughter. "Turns out  
they were just saying something that was true. Who knew."

John finally gathered the energy to move, and he turned over and slung  
himself across Rodney.

"I'm gonna want to do that again."

Rodney almost panicked. "Now?!"

This time John snorted. "No, not now. When my calves don't hurt and my  
muscles don't feel like somebody's sticking them with a pin."

"Oh. Okay."

John's feet scrabbled at the covers. "Help me, McKay. We can't sleep on top  
of these."

They pulled the covers up, and were drifting nicely in each other's arms  
when Rodney suddenly said, "Safe sex!"

"Huh?"

"We didn't use condoms. What if you get pregnant?" He sounded horrified on  
John's behalf.

"Relax, Doctor Paranoid. I got Carson to give me the contraceptive injection  
months ago."

"Why?"

"Just in case. Who knows what we could encounter out there. But it turned  
out to be a good idea, don't you agree?"

Rodney opened his mouth to do just that, but John's mouth covered his in a  
warm and loving kiss, and they fell asleep still curled together.

***

They had another day in Vegas, and had originally planned to go and play the  
slots or blackjack (John would no doubt clean up), maybe see a show... but  
suddenly those activities weren't as appealing as they had been.

They couldn't seem to stop touching each other, after a brief 'morning  
after' moment when Rodney had been sure that John would accuse him of taking  
advantage. But John didn't. He kissed Rodney good morning and then snaked a  
hand under the covers and gave him a quick and dirty handjob, grinning all  
the while as his friend gasped and strained and came.

Rodney then returned the favour by opening John's legs up just enough so  
that his muscles didn't hurt any worse, and licking him to orgasm.

Afterwards, as they sat in the huge whirlpool tub in the bathroom, John said,  
"I'm not sure if this falls under 'don't ask, don't tell', but I'm not  
giving it up, Rodney. Not now that I've discovered what this body is really  
capable of." He saw Rodney's eyes and knew Rodney was thinking that John  
planned to sleep with a whole bunch of people once they got back to Atlantis,  
that maybe next time he wouldn't turn down a strapping young marine who  
wanted to get to know him better.

"I'm not giving *you* up," John added, seeing the relief in Rodney's eyes.  
"I should, and if Elizabeth finds out she'll probably have a cow, but you  
know what? I don't care."

"I love you," Rodney said, not looking directly at him. "I hope that doesn't  
make you uncomfortable. I know I said it last night, but I didn't say it  
just because I wanted you so much, I... I said it because it's true."

John grabbed Rodney's chin and moved his head until their eyes met. "I said  
it too, and don't you ever think I didn't mean it. I. Love. You. Clear  
enough?"

Rodney responded by kissing him, and John climbed up over Rodney's lap and  
slid slowly down onto him, shocked at how much he still wanted this, wanted  
to do this, wanted Rodney inside him.

In this position Rodney could touch and suck those very sensitive nipples,  
which made John throw his head back even as he moved on Rodney, the dual  
sensation driving him completely crazy.

The pleasure they found in each other was unbelievably wonderful.

***

"How was Vegas?" asked General Landry via radio as they waited in the  
conference room for the Daedalus to signal ready.

"Loved it," said John dryly. "How 'bout you, McKay?"

"Best vacation ever," Rodney said.

"So the awards dinner went well?"

"It's too bad there aren't pictures," John mock-pouted. "Because I did  
Rodney proud."

"I'm glad we left that green dress behind," Rodney said, smiling. "People in  
Pegasus might attack you."

"They do anyway," said John, and all three men laughed.

At that monent Sergeant Harriman informed them that the Deadalus was ready.

"Permission to leave the base, Sir," John said.

"Granted, Colonel."

Then they were enveloped by an Asgard beam: two people who were happy to  
have found each other no matter what weird crap they'd had to go through.  
Now they were returning to Atlantis, each person more whole than they had  
been when they'd left.

Love could do that to you.

THE END


End file.
